


Blaze

by Khatndlawa



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Meld, Reunion Fic, Spock thought that Jim was dead, realizing of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khatndlawa/pseuds/Khatndlawa
Summary: When Spock finds out that Jim is alive, their crash together is inevitable.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	Blaze

They stand in Jim’s quarters, looking at each other for the first time in four long, long days- standing next to Jim’s sparsely made bed.

Spock’s hands grip Jim’s shoulders- and Jim looks at him with such complicated eyes- golden brown, like his essence, his heart...

“You _lived_.” Spock finds the illogical words have already fallen from him- and he lowers himself into a sitting position on the Captain’s cot. His voice is barely a breath- and he stares, enraptured.

He feels so much- The power of his rapidly diminishing terror falling through him-the force that dragged him through days of commanding the enterprise alone.

He wishes for more than he deserves, to reach out and hold...

He moves one of his hands from the Captain’s shoulder, and lowers it, dropping it onto the bed near the hem of Jim’s shirt.

“Please.” He whispers. “Let me touch you,”

And Jim’s eyes flicker, disbelieving but spellbound, almost in fantasy.

“Spock... Yes, Spock,” he says.

_______

And so Spock is kissing his Captain, whispering sweet Vulcan into his cheek, his collarbone, emotions coursing through the touch like a flare, a shining, desperate glowbetween them. He is giving in, wrapping his arms around Jim’s waist, rubbing his back; leaning in to steal Jim’s breath, only to have his own stolen in the pure ecstasy, in delight and comfort and such powerful joy that he feels his mind filled to the brim with it, unrestrained and perfect.

He is shaking, and hands reach up to pet his shoulders, and then to cling to him, and Jim is holding so tight, making soft, sweet sounds that Spock wishes never to forget.

“Jim,” Spock, murmurs into the skin underneath Jim’s ear, and he revels in his bondmate’s shivers, in the soft hum of static that covers them like a blanket of relief and safety and disbelief-

In a way Jim is trying to find Spock, and Spock is trying to find Jim, and though they have found each other, they cannot believe until they can _know_ it, until they can feel the steady pound of each other’s hearts, until they can hear the rise and fall of breath- until they can press their minds and bodies so close together that it is as though they are one, until they fall, fall, fall, finally sure.

I love you

Oh god, oh god.

“Jim,” and suddenly the voice is desperate again, and Spock is parting his lips slightly, pulling back and ghosting air deliberately over Jim’s collarbone. The shaking and trembling is delicious- he bends down to swallow it- devouring it- trying so desperately to get closer, to feel him, and his hands reach blindly towards Jim’s face- searching for a meld of heart and soul.

“I need you,” he whispers, his voice ragged- as though he uses it only because he absolutely must- almost surprised that it can function through the barrage against his senses, against his mind, against his emotion.

“Please.” Spock cannot articulate what he wants, hand drifting near Jim’s face- barely suppressing himself.

But Jim reaches for the hand and connects it with his forehead- and Spock is lost-

Somewhere he whispers- _My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts-_ but he can barely feel it- for the sensation of Jim’s skin against his lips is far eclipsed by that of Jim’s mind against his.

It is unforgettable. Golden thread- brilliance, honesty- kindness- alive and shining with such vigour that Spock can do nothing but bask in it-in it’s golden sun-like rays, in it’s nimble, soft sweetness.

He can feel that somewhere in the real world he is crying, holding Jim near him in a tight embrace-

And whispering over and over that he thought Jim was dead-that he feels as though he is dreaming the sweetest dream he has ever had-

And- what feels like hours pass, as he basks in his healing and rests his mind- his reality slowly righting itself- freeing itself from the worry and pain- self hatred and guilt.

When he wakes, his fingers still touching Jim’s forehead- he is encased in warmth- although Jim’s quarters are too cold for him.

Spock knows that Jim’s eyes are closed, so he smiles while no one can see.

He leans forward to kiss Jim softly- and those gentle hazel eyes pop open in the middle of it.

“So I...” he whispers as Spock pulls back for air. “Wasn’t dreaming.. I wasn’t..”

He sounds as though he could cry with soft, disbelieving joy. He leans foreword and slams into a short kiss of his own, triumph pulsing through his skin.

Then he pulls back, grins, and drags Spock down next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I’m just starting writing fic- so sorry for any mistakes- or anything really ☺️


End file.
